


Flower Petals

by ronniexmikaelson



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Charmed References, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Maia Mitchell - Freeform, Slow To Update, Soulmates, Supernatural Elements, Telekinesis, The Originals (TV) Spoilers, Vampires, Werewolves, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:47:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29159886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronniexmikaelson/pseuds/ronniexmikaelson
Summary: sʜᴇ ғᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴇᴛᴀʟ ғᴀʟʟsғʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ғʟᴏᴡᴇʀᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ ᴏғ ʜᴇʀ ᴡᴀs ʜɪs.sʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴡ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ𝗼𝗿 in which the original vampire finds true love
Relationships: Davina Claire & Marcel Gerard, Davina Claire/Kol Mikaelson, Elijah Mikaelson/Original Female Character(s), Keelin Malraux/Freya Mikaelson, Klaus Mikaelson/Camille O'Connell, Marcel Gerard & Original Female Character, Marcel Gerard/Rebekah Mikaelson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	1. Prologue

A teenage girl stood on the sidewalk detracted his attention from the burning house in front of him- her face blank of any emotions whilst her eyes fixed on the fire. Although he couldn't feel the heat, he saw she was affected by the deadly flames. When the wind changed its direction, she had to take a few steps away, thereby stepping closer to him.

Torn and burned clothes, tangled hair, soot and burns gracing her skin; her state answered most of his unasked questions related to the girl. He cautiously moved towards her. Concerned, he blocked the sight by standing in front of her with his hands on her arms. His muscular posture hovering over her, she had to title her head back to see the stranger's face.

Apart from the pair, the was no one around- no police, no firefighters, no gawkers. Even his vampire hearing 'informed' him there was no wail nearby informing about approaching fire engine. Surrounded by utter silence, the vampire locked his gaze with the teenager.

Her faraway expression floored him. He expected her to scream for help, cry or even try to get back into the house to safe her loved ones. But instead, the brunette in front of him felt emotionally bankrupt. There was nothing left to feel, nothing left but the void that enveloped her mind in whirling blackness.

"I killed them"

The sorrow and disbelief behind her words made his dead heart wrench.


	2. Chepter One

Summer in New Orleans seemed to last half of the year. It came as fast as the blaring music, the tourists overflowing the streets, dressed in bright coloured shirts and holding cameras whose rhythmic clicks were lost in the cadence of New Orleans's jazz music. The warm sidewalk had people dancing to the soft tunes, the sun's heat from a cloudless blue sky on their skin.

That was precisely how summer looked like - the time when music and dance intertwined with each other. But it was the flowers that turned out to be the real masterpiece - their colourful petals, a captivating work of art, accompanied curious tourists through their sightseeing. Nevertheless, Asterope - being locked in the attic - couldn't experience the soft, never wavering seasonal changes, almost like lullabies.

Because Asterope Warren didn't exist.

Ever since the accident, Asterope remained isolated from New Orleans's residents. It turned out to be tougher than anyone could've ever suspected - and she didn't make things easier for Marcel. Even though he tried to be as gentle as he could, Marcel had never met a witch that paralleled Asterope. So he moved her from the Abattoir, packed full of vampires, to an abandoned church's attic. It required some dusting, of course, but with time and Marcel's help, Asterope turned it into a rather cosy room.

Then Davina, a sixteen-year-old witch, who Marcel had saved from the Harvest, walked into her life. A unique bond had been created.

The two girls shared the same love for art. Davina's paintings - dark, like ash from a dirty fireplace, paint almost too thick, giving it a rough, coarse and uneven look - focused mainly on the witches practising magic in New Orleans.

Once, Asterope found a few small portraits of what she assumed were Davina's grandparents - it was truly magnificent to look at how much life and love were put into the paintings. They were Asterope's favourite to look at, even though Davina became a blushing mess every time she complimented her talent.

The Warren witch favoured painting on the walls - they dominated every surface, each colour bold and painted with precise lines, curved yet sharply defined. Painting relieved her anxiety, taking her far away to a different time, a different life. She sees reflections of her mind, and when the familiar tingling in her fingers appears, when the anxiety grabs her tongue and dries her mouth, Asterope reaches for her supplies. Sometimes all she needs is paint - her fingers as the brushes, a bit shaky at first, but creating flawless visualisations. The smell of her favourite flowers, oriental lilies that she had planted in her small garden, still lingered in her senses.

But as time flew by, Asterope went out of the things she could do in the attic. Having spent three years in one place, it was inevitable. And the grief had a way of removing her from the world - she felt as if a black mist had settled upon her and refused to shift. Sadness like death by a thousand paper cuts, unfortunately not enough to kill her, but enough to remind her of the blood on her hands that'd never be washed down.

"Anything new, D?" The voice of Marcel Gerard brought Asterope back from her thoughts. She turned her head to look at the vampire leaning against the doorway, his eyes fixed on the younger witch. Davina was kneeling next to an opened casket, occupied by the one and only, Elijah Mikaelson.

Weeks ago, Marcel presented them with a rather unusual gift - a daggered Original Vampire. The task for the younger witch - since Asterope didn't practice magic - was to investigate the secret behind the dagger.

As far as Asterope knew, Marcel and the Original Family had history. But even when he lifted the veil of secrecy by mentioning how their paths crossed, it did nothing to fulfil her curiosity. So finally, after many failed attempts to get more out of the dark-skinned vampire, she gave up.

Davina sighed, her face scrunched in disappointment as she stood up, her eyes never leaving the Original. "No, I'm still stuck."

Marcel stepped inside. "Maybe we should let Terry try?"

It was just a suggestion, with a hint of hope hidden behind the words, but it still caused Asterope to take a sharp breath. She averted her eyes from them, unable to bear the pity flashing across Marcel's face or the sad look Davina sent her. Neither of them dared to ask why she refused, again. The thought of using her magic made her feel uneasy and scared.

Marcel sighed, resting his arms on Davina's shoulders, making the teenager look at him. "Take your time. Let me know if you need anything, okay?" Davina nodded her head. "And Terry? Remember about the herbs, please."

Asterope hummed under her breath, her body turned away from him, guilt overwhelming her at his words. Even though weeks had passed since her last episode, she still couldn't forget or forgive herself for what Marcel must have gone through because of her.

Her eyes flickered to the golden box on her bedside table where her herbs were. Asterope missed the worried glances Marcel and Davina shared as she curled into herself on the armchair near the window, having a perfect view of the streets.

Marcel didn't know how to help the girl. He loved her from the bottom of his heart, and seeing her so broken devastated him. At first, he thought she had troubles with adjusting. It took her a month to finally feel comfortable enough to stutter out a whole sentence, and with time, she warmed up to him.

After Marcel left and Davina buried her nose in grimoires, Asterope found herself by the side of an open coffin. She sat down on the floor, next to the Original's head, lost in her thoughts. She stroked his vein-covered skin, moving loose strands of hair from his forehead.

It became a habit for Asterope to spend some time by the coffin, simply admiring the man. Even desiccated, he was still handsome. Tilting her head to the side, she wrapped her hand around the dagger's handle, the edge buried in his chest. She wished nothing more than to free the man from its torture, but since she wasn't ready for Marcel's rage, she let go of the handle with a barely hearable sigh.

But what caught her attention, though, was his daylight ring. Marcel had mentioned its purpose, explaining that it allowed vampires to walk freely in the day. And the gem that adorned the Original's finger was magnificent. Asterope, for the first time, allowed herself to actually touch the vampire. She took his wrist to examine his ring closer, lifting his hand. Only a gasp managed to escape her lips before her surroundings changed.

One moment she was sitting by the coffin on the attic floor, and the next she found herself in the middle of a village. She let out a soft huff at the sound of laughter and happy shouting echoing through the air.

Unable to resist her urge to follow the noise, Asterope took a step forward, but she was stopped by the unusual scene unfolding before her. She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of two men, dressed in Viking clothes and sparring with swords.

Her surroundings weren't clear - she felt like she was looking at the scene through fog. But it was enough for her to see the old, primitive huts, with people that didn't seem to notice the presence of a new girl completely sticking out of the crowd. Asterope quickly realised they couldn't have seen her.

And the fact that a blonde girl, looking no older than her, ran right past her, confirmed her thoughts. If she'd physically been there, they would have bumped shoulders, but the other girl's arms went through hers. Surprisingly, Asterope didn't feel anything - she expected some eerie, ominous feeling people always describe in movies when someone walks right through you, but she felt nothing.

Asterope followed the blonde girl and the young boy beside her, both of them smiling brightly as they ran after their siblings. "Come on Henrik, our brothers are fighting again!"

Only when they got closer to the two men, could she get a better look at them. After taking a few steps forward to stand in front of the blonde girl, she finally recognised one of them. But this version of Elijah was very much alive and looked rather amusing with shoulder-length hair.

Elijah noticed his siblings arrival and smirked at the other man. "Oh look, our sister has arrived to watch my fast approaching victory!"

"On the contrary, Elijah," his brother spoke before swinging his sword at Elijah's belt, making the leather material fall to the ground. "She's come to laugh at you!"

The girl let out a chuckle, exchanging a glance with the boy, while the blond man laughed softly, still kneeling on the ground.

There was a few seconds of silence, in which Asterope noticed two figures observing the siblings. She was surprised that she didn't see them approaching - while the woman tried to hide her nervousness by turning her head to the side, the man was barely holding his anger.

"Relax, Mikael," the woman spoke, fixing her grip on her basket as she sent her husband a distressed look. "Niklaus means well."

Asterope quickly connected the name with the young blond man - now he'd stood up, staring at the ground, refusing to meet his father's scornful gaze. "And that's precisely my problem."

The change in the air was palpable. The fear visible on all the siblings' faces made Asterope shift uncomfortably on the balls of her feet. In the corner of her eye, she saw the blonde woman open her mouth to speak, as if she wanted to interrupt or stop her husband, but she ultimately thought better of it, dropping her gaze.

Mikael made his way toward Elijah, reaching out to take his sword. Asterope swallowed thickly, her eyes switching between Elijah and Niklaus - the latter visibly terrified of his father. All of the siblings had similar expressions.

Mikael finally faced his son, after circling for a while, wielding the sword. The others gathered around the two, Asterope standing right next to the blonde girl. "So, why don't you teach me that trick, young warrior?"

Before anyone could react, Mikael swung his sword at Niklaus, who, to Asterope's relief, blocked the attack. "Father, we were just having fun."

Asterope bit her lower lip, frustrated she couldn't do anything but watch. Niklaus's words only provoked Mikael further, so he raised his voice. "We fight for our survival! And you find time for fun? I want to have fun! Teach me! Come on!" he yelled.

"Father, it was nothing."

The man let out a battle cry, lunging toward his son. Without an effort, he disarmed Niklaus, knocking him back down to the ground, the tip of his sword soon pointed at Niklaus's throat. Asterope held her breath, shocked and scared of the man's next move. "You are foolish and impulsive, my boy. What? No more laughter?"

"You've made your point, Mikael!" the woman sternly said. A strange feeling bubbled up inside Asterope's chest when no one reacted, not even the other people staring at them. Her eyes widened, shouting in protest as Mikael raised his sword. She was sure he'd kill the boy with it, but it stuck next to Niklaus's head.

"Some days, it's a miracle you're still alive, boy," he bites out, clean and sharp, spitting out the last word, disgusted, disappointed, or maybe even enraged - she couldn't tell. Relief washed over all of them when the man stood up and left without sparing a glance.

Asterope covered her mouth with her hand, letting out a strangled breath and glancing around the village. Sometime throughout the scene, the fog had disappeared and everything became clear. The villagers, seeing there was nothing more to look at, went back to minding their own business, leaving the Mikaelsons alone.

Elijah helped his younger brother off the ground, furrowing his brows, pity and concern written all over his face. Neither of them dared to glance at Mikael's figure - only Esther, who hadn't moved since the beginning of the quarrel, stepped forward.

But when the blonde girl ran toward Niklaus to wrap her arms around him in a tight hug, Esther moved back and soon followed her husband's footsteps. Asterope's heart skipped a beat, a shadow of a smile playing on her lips as the girl forced her siblings into a group hug. Shortly, the sound of laughter resounded through the village again.

When the scene started to slowly disappear, the familiar tingling washing over her body, she felt herself relax, just before everything went black. And then her chocolate brown eyes met with hazel brown ones - pure shock and confusion apparent on the man's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! This is my first story ever written so let me know what do you think!


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